Every Girl Like Me
by Paige Elise Hale
Summary: Lestrade's niece comes to stay with him in London, following her father's death. To Sherlock, she's nothing like he's ever seen before. She's witty and sarcastic and finds him fascinating.
1. Chapter 1

Every Girl Like Me

**I do not own Sherlock in any way.**

* * *

It was rainy cold day in Bristol when the funeral was held.

Deputy Richard Lestrade was being laid to rest today.

The 21 guns went off, startling Olivia.

Before her father's death, she had never been to a police funeral.

Her uncle put his hand on her shoulder.

When the casket was in the ground, the police chief handed Olivia her father's hat and a folded flag.

"He was a great man", Zigor told her, "He will be missed".

She tried to smile and thank him, but couldn't.

"Thank you", her uncle said for her.

The casket was covered with dirt and everyone started to leave.

After an hour, Olivia was still standing in front of her father's grave.

"Livy, c'mon. Let's get you home", her uncle said.

The word home sent her into tears.

She hadn't cried since the day her father's partner had broken the news to her.

Her uncle took her in his arms. "It'll be okay Livy. I promise you", he told her.

* * *

Within a week, Olivia had packed up her life in Bristol.

Her uncle had arranged for her to be moved to London with him.

One very long train ride later, Olivia arrived in London.

Despite living in England her whole life, her father had never taken her to London.

Not even to see her uncle.

But being Detective Inspector of Scotland Yard made it rather difficult for him to get away.

* * *

As they unpacked, her uncle got a call from the station. He sighed.

"Tough case?" Olivia asked him.

"Yeah", he said. He dialed another number.

Olivia could hear him yelling the hallway.

"I don't care Sherlock! There's a murderer on the loose. I would really appreciate your help", her uncle said, "Thank you Sherlock. Come by the station tomorrow and we'll talk about it". Her uncle hung up.

"Who's Sherlock?" Olivia asked.

"Sherlock Holmes. Grade A git, but a great man", he said.

Olivia couldn't wait to meet this Sherlock Holmes.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**I do not own Sherlock in any way.**

**A/N-Some people may think that Sherlock is a little OOC, but I think he's mushy underneath that hard exterior.**

* * *

The next day, Lestrade took Olivia to work with him.

She was practically jumping out of her skin waiting to meet Sherlock Holmes.

The door flew open.

Lord, he was tall!

"Sherlock", Lestrade said, "I'd like for you to meet…"

"Your niece", Sherlock said.

"That was so cool!" Olivia said prancing up to Sherlock.

"Do it again!" she said.

"You've recently moved here from Bristol, judging by your accent. Lestrade is obviously your uncle, since he's never mentioned ever having a daughter. You have similar bone structure that screams extended family. Now…you've moved here possibly because your father has died, for which I am truly sorry. Sherlock Holmes at your service", he said. He grabbed her hand and brought it up to his lips and kissed it.

"Olivia", she told him.

Lestrade stood in shock.

Sherlock had never expressed sympathy for someone. Sherlock lowered her hand. Sherlock thought Olivia Lestrade was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

* * *

*2 years later*

'Meet me at the café on Baker Street' –SH

"Got another date with the freak?" Sally asked her.

"Sally", Lestrade warned her.

Sally rolled her eyes and walked off.

Lestrade walked over to Olivia and kissed her head. "Ignore her", he told her.

"She's lucky I don't clock her", Olivia snapped.

Lestrade smiled whenever he saw her father's personality come out. "Go see 'im", Lestrade told her.

"Thank you!" she said and kissed her uncle of the cheek. She rushed out of Scotland Yard, hailed a taxi, and sped off for Baker Street. When she arrived at Baker Street, a pale hand opened the door to the cab.

Olivia looked up and saw Sherlock. She smiled. He held out his other hand and helped her out. He paid for her cab fare and the taxi took off. His hand was still holding her. "Olivia", he said placing a kiss on her knuckles.

"Sherlock", she said.

He released her hand and led her to a table outside.

"So…" Olivia said.

"You're wondering why I've asked you here", he said.

"Very good deduction", Olivia said.

The waitress came by and took their orders.

"Black coffee two sugars and a hot chocolate", Sherlock told her and then waved her away.

"You remembered", Olivia said.

Sherlock opened his mouth to say something.

"I know, mind palace and everything", she said, "So why did you ask me here?"

"I'm looking for a flatmate", Sherlock said.

Olivia's cheeks went pink.

"Do you know of anyone looking for a flatmate?" he asked her.

Olivia's phone buzzed. She groaned.

The waitress came back at that time with their drinks.

"I've gotta dash, Sherlock", she said standing up. She started to walk by him, but his hand reached out and grabbed her wrist. She leaned down and kissed his cheekbone. "I really am sorry, Sherlock", she said running her hand through his black curls, "I'll keep a look out for you".

Sherlock released her wrist and walked her hail a cab. He had wanted to ask her, but had chickened out at the last moment.

A cab drove up and Olivia got in.

She looked at Sherlock and blew him a kiss before it took off.

Sherlock got up. He left money on the table for Olivia's hot chocolate, but his coffee went untouched.

It never tasted the same if it wasn't shared with her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**I do not own Sherlock in any way.**

* * *

The next couple weeks were hectic for the Scotland Yard and Olivia and Sherlock's coffee lunch dates had stopped.

Both Olivia and Sherlock were quite bothered by this fact.

There were also several suicides happening for no reason.

"Uncle, you need to call him", Olivia told Lestrade.

"No. Not yet", Lestrade said.

Olivia groaned.

_My uncle is an idiot _–OL

_Of course he is. Everyone's an idiot_- SH

_Except you, love_- SH

That last text made Olivia smile, but Sherlock always found a way to make her smile.

_Ever find that flatmate you were looking for? _–OL

_Still looking. But I've got some prospects-SH_

_Am I going to see you later?-SH_

_If I can get away-OL_

"Olivia!" her uncle called. She sighed.

Well it looked like Sherlock wasn't going to get his wish tonight.

* * *

A few weeks later, Scotland Yard held a press conference to discuss the suicides.

"The body of Beth Davenport, Junior Minister for Transport, was found late last night on a building site in Greater London. Preliminary investigations suggest this was suicide", Sally read off, "We can confirm that this apparent suicide closely resembles those of Sir Jeffery Patterson and James Phillimore. In the light of this, these incidents are now being treated as linked. The investigation is ongoing, but Detective Inspector Lestrade will take questions now".

"Detective Inspector, how can suicides be linked?" one reporter asked.

"Well, they all took the same poison. They were all found in places they had no reason to be", Lestrade said, "None of them had shown any prior indication…"

"But you can't have serial suicides", the reporter interrupted.

"Well, apparently you can", Lestrade said.

"These three people, there's nothing that links them?" another asked.

"There's no link we've found yet, but we're looking for it", Lestrade said, "There has to be one".

Everyone's phones buzzed.

_Wrong! _

Olivia smiled.

Of course that clever bastard was watching.

_Cheeky-_OL

"If you've all got texts, please ignore them", Sally said.

"It just says, "Wrong"", the first reporter said.

"Yeah, well, just ignore that", Sally said.

Lestrade looked over at Olivia, who was trying to hide the smile on her face.

"If there are no more questions for Detective Inspector Lestrade, I'm going to bring this session to an end", Sally said.

"If they're suicides, what are you investigating?" a reporter asked.

"As I say, these suicides are clearly linked", Lestrade said, "Um…it's an unusual situation. We've got our best people investigating".

_Wrong!_

"Says, "Wrong" again", the same reporter from before said.

Olivia could tell her uncle was getting annoyed, and so was Sally.

"One more question", Sally said.

"Is there any chance that these are murders? And if they are, is this the work of a serial killer?" a female reporter asked.

"I know you'd like writing about these, but these do appear to be suicides", Lestrade said, "We know the difference. The poison was clearly self-administered".

"Yes, but if they are murders, how do people keep themselves safe?" the female reporter asked.

"Well, don't commit suicide. Obviously this is a frightening time for people, but all anyone has to do is exorcise reasonable precautions", Lestrade said, "We are all as safe as we want to be".

W_rong! _

Olivia's phone buzzed twice.

_You know where to find me_-SH

With that, the session was over.

"You've got to stop him doing that", Sally told Lestrade and Olivia, "He's making us look like idiots".

"I'm not Sherlock's keeper, Sally", Olivia snapped going back to her desk.

"If you can tell me how he does it, I'll stop him", Lestrade told Sally.

_You know you've royally pissed off Sally-_OL

_All in a day's work. Off to Bart's-_SH

_Might stop by after work. See the flat-_OL

_Can't wait_-SH


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**I do not own Sherlock in any way.**

* * *

After work, Olivia went straight to Baker Street. She knocked on the door of 221 and an older lady answered the door.

"Oh! You must be Olivia! Sherlock's right upstairs", she said.

"221 B, right?" Olivia asked her.

"Yes dear. I'm Mrs. Hudson", she said.

Olivia nodded at her and bounded up the stairs. She entered the flat and found Sherlock sitting in his chair thinking. She knew he was thinking because he had his hands steepled in front of his lips. She glanced around the flat. "Let me guess, you bought this without getting a flatmate first?" she asked him.

Sherlock shrugged and said, "Mrs. Hudson owed me".

Olivia rolled her eyes at him. "Do you want a cuppa? I can make you one", Olivia said.

"If I wanted you to make me one, I would've said so", Sherlock said.

Normally she would've been offended, but this was Sherlock's way of saying that she didn't have to.

She understood him and his mannerisms. She went ahead and made one anyway for herself. She sat down in the chair opposite him. "So, you said you might've found a flatmate?" she asked him.

"John Watson", Sherlock said, "Stamford brought him to Bart's today".

"I'd love to meet him", Olivia said.

Sherlock pursed his lips.

"Oh Sherlock, don't be like that. You know I only have feelings for you", she teased.

Well it wasn't a complete lie.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes.

Olivia's phone buzzed. She took her cup to the sink and grabbed her coat. "I'll see you later, Sherlock", she said. She started to leave, but Sherlock grabbed her wrist. She turned as Sherlock placed a kiss on her knuckles.

"Farewell, Olivia Lestrade", he said.

She blushed and kissed his cheekbone, like always.

He released her and watched her leave the flat. He still wished he had the courage to ask her to be his flatmate.

* * *

Olivia entered the kitchen the next morning to find her uncle staring at the paper.

He looked up and sighed.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

"There was another last night", he said.

Olivia smiled. "Does that mean…?" she asked.

"Yes", he said. He rolled his eyes as Olivia giggled and clapped her hands.

Sometimes it was weird how alike Olivia and Sherlock could be.

"Can I come?" Olivia asked.

"To the crime scene only", Lestrade said.

Olivia pouted and went back to her room.

* * *

Lestrade ran up the steps of the apartment building.

"Where?" Sherlock asked turning to face him.

"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens", Lestrade told him.

"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get me if there wasn't something different", Sherlock said.

"You know how they never leave notes? This one did", Lestrade said, "Will you come?"

"Who's on forensics?" Sherlock asked.

"Anderson", Lestrade answered.

"Anderson won't work with me", Sherlock said.

"Well he won't be your assistant", Lestrade told him.

"I need an assistant", Sherlock said.

"Will you come?" Lestrade asked again.

"Is…?" Sherlock started to ask.

Lestrade sighed and said, "Yes. She'll be there".

"Then yes. I will come", Sherlock said, "Not in a police car. I'll be right behind".

"Thank you", Lestrade said.

Sherlock's phone buzzed.

_Thank you-OL_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**I do not own Sherlock in any way.**

**A/N-John meets Olivia!**

* * *

Olivia arrived at the crime scene with her uncle. She pulled out her phone and sent a text to Sherlock.

**_Excited?_-OL**

**_More than you know_-SH**

"Olivia!" her uncle scolded.

"Sorry, uncle", she said and followed him into the house.

In one of the bedrooms lay a woman dressed completely in pink face down on the floor.

Olivia could tell Sherlock was going to have fun with this one.

* * *

Sherlock and John got out of the taxi cab and walked up to the crime scene.

"Hello, freak!" Sally said.

"I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade", Sherlock told her.

"Why?" she asked.

"I was invited", Sherlock said.

"Why?" she repeated.

"I think he wants me to take a look", Sherlock said.

"Are you sure you're not just here for 'her'?" Sally asked.

"She and I are just friends", Sherlock said, starting to get annoyed with Sally.

"Well, you know what I think, don't you?" Sally asked him.

"Always Sally", Sherlock said pulling the tape up and going under it, "Even know you didn't make it home last night".

"Uh, who's this?" Sally asked looking at John.

"Colleague of mine, Dr. Watson", Sherlock explained, "Dr. Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan. Old friend".

"A colleague?" Sally asked him, "How do you get a colleague? What…did he follow you home?"

"Would it be better if I just waited…?" John asked.

"No", Sherlock said lifting the tape for him. Sherlock looked up and saw Olivia in one of the windows.

She gave him a small smile, before disappearing.

"Freak's here. Bringing him in", Sally said over a walkie.

They walked towards the house.

"Ah, Anderson. Here we are again", Sherlock said.

"It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?" Anderson asked him.

"Quite clear. And is your wife away for long?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh, don't pretend you worked that out", Anderson sneered, "Somebody told you that".

"Your deodorant told me that", Sherlock said.

"My deodorant?" Anderson asked.

"It's for men", Sherlock said.

"Of course it's for men. I'm wearing it", Anderson said.

"So's Sergeant Donovan", Sherlock said, "Ohh, I think it just vaporized. May I go in?"

"Now, look, whatever you're trying to imply…" Anderson said.

"I'm not trying to imply anything. I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat and just happened to stay over. And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees", Sherlock said. Sherlock went into the house, where he knew Lestrade was waiting. He smiled when he saw Olivia. "Olivia", he said, seizing her hand, "Always a pleasure". He gently kissed her knuckles as always.

Lestrade was still a bit miffed that Sherlock liked Olivia.

He had never shown an interest in women before her.

"Sherlock?" she said as he released her hand, "Who's this?"

"Dr. John Watson", Sherlock explained.

John shook her hand.

"You're a military man aren't you?" she asked him.

"Can you do what he does?" John asked her.

"The way you carry yourself says military", she explained, "My father was in the military before he joined the police force".

"And are you…?" John asked Lestrade.

Olivia giggled as Sherlock said, "She's his niece obviously. You should wear one of these".

"Aren't you going to put one on?" John asked Olivia and Sherlock.

Sherlock didn't wear one for obvious reasons and Olivia never really did anything around crime scenes anyway. She usually took photographs and took notes. She also helped her uncle and Sherlock out on occasions.

"So where are we?" Sherlock asked.

"Upstairs", Lestrade told him.

As Lestrade led them up the stairs, Olivia turned to Sherlock.

"You're going to love this one. I just know it", she told him.

Sherlock simply smiled.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**I do not own Sherlock in any way.**

**A/N-With school in session, there won't be as many updates, but I'll try to get them out there.**

* * *

"I can give you two minutes", Lestrade told Sherlock.

"May need longer", Sherlock replied.

"I doubt it", Olivia whispered to him.

This caused Sherlock to smirk. He loved showing off in front of Olivia.

One of the only things that gave him real pleasure.

"Her name's Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards. We're running them now for contact details", Lestrade said, "Hasn't been here long. Some kids found her".

They entered the room and Sherlock stopped for a moment.

"Told you", Olivia said. Her hand brushed Sherlock's back, before she took her placed next to her uncle.

"Shut-up", Sherlock said to Lestrade.

"I didn't say anything", Lestrade told him.

"You were thinking. It's annoying", Sherlock said, "Olivia, carry on".

Lestrade glanced at his niece.

She gave him a smug smile and he rolled his eyes.

Sherlock stared at the body and Olivia could tell he was deducing.

He then got down on his knees and examined the body.

"Got anything?" Lestrade asked.

"Not much", Sherlock said.

He got up and looked at Olivia.

Lestrade hated it when the two silently communicated.

She raised her eyebrows at him to say, '_Well, impress me once again, Mr. Holmes'_.

Sherlock smirked to say_, 'With pleasure, Miss Lestrade'_.

"She's German", Anderson said, appearing in the doorway, "_Rache_. It's German for revenge. She could be trying to tell us something".

"Yes, thank you for your input", Sherlock said shutting the door in Anderson's face. Sherlock was fiddling with his phone.

"So she's German?" Lestrade asked.

"Of course she's not", Sherlock said, "She's from out of town, though. Intended to stay in London for one night before returning home to Cardiff. So far, so obvious". He spun around and smirked at Olivia. _'Impressed?'_

She shrugged at him, challenging him to do better.

"Sorry, obvious?" John asked him.

"What about the message, though?" Lestrade asked.

"Dr. Watson, what do you think?" Sherlock asked.

"Of the message?" John asked, not understanding.

"Of the body. You're a medical man", Sherlock said.

"Well, no, we have a whole team right outside", Lestrade said.

"They won't work with me", Sherlock argued.

"I'm breaking every rule letting you in here", Lestrade said.

"Yes, because you need me", Sherlock said.

"Yes I do", Lestrade said and Olivia gave Sherlock a small nod. "God help me", Lestrade breathed.

"Dr. Watson", Sherlock said again.

"Oh, do as he says, help yourself", Lestrade told John. Lestrade left the room saying, "Anderson, keep everybody out for a couple of minutes".

The two men knelt down beside the body.

Olivia stood behind Sherlock with her hand on the base of his neck, gently massaging.

"Well?" Sherlock asked.

"What am I doing here?" John asked.

"Helping me make a point", Sherlock whispered to him.

"I'm supposed to be helping you pay the rent", John said.

"Well this is more fun", Sherlock said.

"Fun? There's a woman lying dead", John told him.

"This is his definition of fun. You'll get used to it eventually", Olivia told John.

"Perfect sound analysis, but I was hoping you'd go deeper", Sherlock said.

Lestrade entered the room again and Olivia stepped back from Sherlock, much to the disappointment of Sherlock.

Her hand on his neck had felt quite good in fact.

John examined the body. "Asphyxiation, probably", he said, "Passed out. Choked on her own vomit".

Olivia's nose crinkled in disgust.

"Can't smell any alcohol on her", John continued, "Could have been a seizure, possibly drugs".

"You know what it was, you've read the papers", Sherlock told him.

"Well, she's one of the suicides—the fourth", John said.

"Sherlock, two minutes, I said", Lestrade reminded him, "I need anything you got".

"Victim is in her late 30's. Professional person, going by her clothes. I'm guessing something in the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Traveled from Cardiff today, intending to stay in London for one night", Sherlock said, "That's obvious from the size of her suitcase".

"Suitcase?" Lestrade asked.

"Suitcase, yes", Sherlock said, "She's been married for at least ten years, but not happily. She's had a string of lovers, but none of them knew she was married".

"Oh, for God's sake, if you're just making this up…" Lestrade started, but Sherlock cut him off.

"Her wedding ring, ten years old at least. The rest of her jewelry has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State o her marriage, right there", Sherlock explained, "The inside of the ring is shinier than the outside. That means it's regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It's not for work; look at her nails. She doesn't work with her hands, so what, or rather who does she remove her rings for? Clearly not one lover. She'd never sustain the fiction of being single over that amount of time, so more likely a string of them, simple".

Sherlock looked over at Olivia and raised his eyebrows. _'Impressed?'_

She smiled at him and nodded.

"It's brilliant", John said, "Sorry".

"Cardiff?" Lestrade asked.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Sherlock asked.

"It's not obvious to me", John said.

"Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains?" Sherlock asked, "It must be so boring".

"It rained earlier in Cardiff today", Olivia said.

"Right you are Olivia", Sherlock said, "Her coat—it's slightly damp. She's been in heavy rain in the last few hours. No rain anywhere near London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp, too. She's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her left-hand pocket, but it's dry and unused. Not just wind, strong wind, too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight so she must have come a decent distance, but she can't have traveled more than two or three hours, because her coat still hasn't dried. So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the travel radius of that time? Like Olivia said, Cardiff". He pulled out his phone to prove the point.

"It's fantastic", John said.

"Do you know you do that out loud?" Sherlock asked, causing Olivia to smile.

"Sorry, I'll shut up", John said.

"No, it's…fine", Sherlock said.

"Why do you keep saying suitcase?" Lestrade asked him.

"Yes, where is it?" Sherlock asked, "She must have had a phone or an organizer. Find out who Rachel is".

Olivia stopped Sherlock and shook her head.

"She was writing Rachel?" Lestrade asked.

"No, she was leaving an angry message in German", Sherlock snapped, "Of course she was writing Rachel! No other word it can be".

"Sherlock…" Olivia said, trying to calm him.

"Question is, why did she wait until she was dying to write it?" Sherlock asked.

"So how do you know she had a suitcase?" Lestrade asked.

"Back of her right leg, tiny splash marks on the heel and calf not present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand. Don't get that splash pattern any other way. Smallish suitcase going by the spread. Case that size, woman this clothes-conscious, it could only be an overnight bag, so we know she was staying one night. Now where is it, what have you do with it?" Sherlock asked.

"Sherlock, there wasn't a case", Olivia told him.

"Say that again", Sherlock said.

"There wasn't one, Sherlock", Olivia said, knowing that an outburst was coming.

Sherlock pushed past them. "Suitcase!" he yelled, "Did anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?!"

Olivia ran down the stairs following him. "Sherlock! There wasn't any case!" Olivia said again.

"They poison themselves", Sherlock said, "They chew, swallow the pills themselves. There are clear signs. Even you lot couldn't miss!"

Olivia continued to follow him down the stairs. "Sherlock, listen to me!" she snapped.

"And?!" Lestrade called.

"It's murder, all of them. I don't know how", Sherlock said, "They're not suicides, they're killings, serial killings. We've got ourselves a serial killer! Love those. There's always something to look forward too".

It always brought Olivia joy to see Sherlock happy, even if it was a morbid thing like murder.

"Why are you saying that?" Lestrade asked him.

"Her case! Come on, where is her case? Did she eat it? Someone else was here and they took her case. So the killer must have driven her here, forgot the case was in the car", Sherlock said.

"She could have checked into a hotel, left her case there?" John suggested.

"No, she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair. She color coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She'd never have left any hotel with her hair still looking…" Sherlock trailed off.

"Sherlock? What is it?" Olivia asked him.

"Serial killers, always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake", Sherlock said, smiling.

"We can't just wait!" Lestrade yelled.

"Oh, we're done waiting! Look at her, really look. Houston, we have a mistake. Get onto Cardiff. Find out who Jennifer Wilson's family and friends were! Find Rachel!" Sherlock said.

"Of course, yeah, but what mistake?" Lestrade asked.

"Pink!" Sherlock yelled.

Olivia followed Sherlock out of the house. "Sherlock?" she called.

He spun around and seized her hand. "I really must go, my dear Olivia", he said kissing her knuckles.

She placed one hand on his cheek and kissed his cheekbone. "Go find that case", she told him.

He let go of her hand and winked at her before running off down the street.


End file.
